Right place at the right time
by croll
Summary: TWO GIANT LEADERS ATTACKED! Are they okay? Who did it? Why? Will it happen again? Will Justice be served? And who's the new girl? Read to find out
1. Attack

It was a warm summers' evening when two figures leaned over the Brooklyn Bridge . Jack listened intently as Spot told him

how life was going on his side of town. The two leaders, having not seen each other for a long while, had a lot to catch up

on. Earlier that day, the word spread like wild fire to all the boys that their leaders wouldn't be home until late that night.

Jack gazed up at the moon gleaming in a deep blue sky. His thoughts began to stray as he recalled first meeting Spot. Jack

had thought the small boy needed help as the Delancy Brothers cornered him into an alley. Jack arrived to find the kid kicking

some serious rear and with rage in his ice cold eye's flinging around to throw himself at Jack."Hey! Jacky Boy? Jack!"

Snapping out of it Jack turned to face his friend. "Are you even listening to me?" Jack sighed, "yeah, well, no, but I had to of

been or else you woulda" "That's wad I thought. Jack held his hands up. "You didn't let me finish", he smiled. "You woulda

thrown a hissy fit and threatened to soak me." "Oh you're askin' for it!" As the two boys played around they failed to notice

the group of men approach behind them. "What have we here?"said a tall burly thug. His fiend spoke up as Jack and Spot

turned around giving each other anxious glances. "I believe," he claimed stepping forward, "that dis one calls himself, what

is it? Dot?" he snickered as he pushed Spot back. Furious, Spot stepped forward, head held high. "My name, is Spot Conlon,

and you are?" "I ain't about ta tell you nuttin'. Spot glared at the man, "Oh is that so?" Jack put his arm in front of Spot and

shot him a wary look, but there was no stopping Spot when he was enraged. As the seven men started throwing punches

Jack had no choice but to fight back. What appeared to be the leader immediately drew a club and smashed it forcefully into

Spot's knee. As Spot collapsed he shot Jack a look of pure shock. _How did he know about my knee?!_ When Spot was young he

had had a run in, literally, with a large carriage and ever since his left knee had been extremely weak. Although the pain was

immense Spot couldn't be beaten so easily. He rose shakily and resumed to, what seemed like, take quite the beating. It

was a hopeless cause. Not only were the men older and larger, but they out numbered the two boys three to one.

Michelle, a tall, thin, brunette walked slowly as she headed out of Manhattan . She had seen all she needed to see. It had

been an extremely busy week for her as she traveled to various parts of New York searching for the group of newsies that

suited her best. Her lodging house back in Chicago had recently caught fire and burnt down. She wasn't about to join up

with any of the surrounding groups so she was forced to move on.

Back on the bridge Jack grunted in pain as he was thrown to the ground. The men above him kicked mercilessly. Jack,

although only catching a brief glance of how Spot was fairing, saw enough to send despair deep down inside him.

Spot was only able to make contact once with his cane before receiving a blow to the stomach and a fist to the jaw. One last

hit sent him sprawled out on the ground. At that time his head slammed into the side of the bridge. Spot lie motionless as

blood seeped out of his skull.

Apparently finished, the leader turned to the others and told them to separate the two boys. Leaving Jack alone on the

bridge the group disappeared into Manhattan with Spot on their shoulders.

Michelle trudged onto the bridge not really caring where she was going. She glanced up to see a group of men rush past her

with a wounded boy on their shoulders. The man in front had bloody knuckles and a glare on his face. His hair was a dark

scraggled mess and his face was covered in a large curly beard. Putting his face into her memory she shrugged, figuring they

were helping him, and walked on. Only a small ways up the bridge Michelle found a young man lying, trembling as he took

shallow breaths. The boys' face was swollen and bloody. He had shaggy brown hair and a firm build. Taking the red

bandanna from his neck she began to put pressure to the gash on his upper left arm. "I gotta get im back ta town." She

mumbled to herself. "Wha'?" Michelle jumped and looked over to see the boy's dismal, chocolate brown eyes staring intently

into hers. "T, ta, take me t to..." He paused to take a shaky breath. "take me to da newsboys lodging house." Jack grimaced

as he tried to get up. When Michelle offered her arm to help him up he gratefully grabbed a hold and pulled himself up.

Leaning heavily on Michelle's shoulder he shivered as the two shakily made their way back toward Manhattan .


	2. Survival of the fittest

Back at the Newsboys lodging house there was an air of anxiety and distress. Race stood up and with a worried voice

proclaimed,

"Dere's gotta be somtin wrong! He don't just disappea' like dat!" Trying unsuccessfully to reassure the boys of Jacks' being

out so long Blink said, "Well he did say dat he wasn't gonna be home till late." "Yeah? Well dis late? Dat's just stupid, and

jack, he ain't exactly stupid." Mush piped in. Once again the boys sat in a nervous silence until a pebble flew through the

window pegging Race in the head, "oww! What the!" The boys all rushed to the window to be crushed by a devastating

sight. A young girl stood and looked up with a broken Jack Kelly crumbled at her feet. "no!" whispered Mush as he spun

around to sprint down the stairs and out the door. "Wad ya do?!" He screamed as he collapsed next to Jack. Putting her

hands up in defense Michelle exclaimed "Nuttin! Nuttin at all! I jus found im on da bridge an brought im ere!" Skittery

stepped forward, "Is dat so?" "Honest!" shaking her head angrily she spat, "After all I've done you should be grovelin at me

feet not throwin out false, not to mention foolish accusations." Turning away Michelle stormed off into the night. Race quickly

jumped into help mode, "Boots! Go get Kloppman! Tell im ta call a doctah! Mush we need Ice and Skitts go get me watuh

and a cloth. Blink you help me here while uh Snipeshooter head out wit Crutchy to get a foist aid kit." Everyone ran to do

their jobs while Blink knelt down beside Jack and removed his bandana from his arm. They gasped; it was an especially deep

and nasty gouge. Race took a shaky breath and turned to Blink, "Kid, dis is gonna be one long night."

Jack opened his eyes, squinting as he adjusted to the light. He realized he was in a small, simple room. Hospital he thought

to himself. At that moment Race stepped through the door. "Hey ya Cowboy! How ya feelin?" Jack frowned, "Ta be honest

wit ya, not so good, Race, not so good." Jack had broken three ribs and bruised his lungs, not to mention the severe

concussion. Jack looked at Race with urgency, "Where's Spot? Is he a'ight? Uh, how long have I been out?" Race came over

and sat down. "Foiyst off I don't know where Spot is, I haven't seen im for three days, uh and dat's how long you've been

out." Jack went completely white. "THREE DAYS! Race! Spot's worse din me! Youse gotta find im! You just gotta!" Jack closed

his eyes and grimaced in pain, both physical and emotional. Race just sat there stunned until Jack opened his eyes and

yelled "GO!"

The next morning Race got all the boys attention and explained the situation. "A'ight! So, uh, it toins out dat Spot was wit

Jacky boy dat night and he's missin, so keep yo' eyes an ears open. Blink and I aw going ta Brooklyn ta see if dey knows

anyting."

That evening back at the hospital Race entered Jack's room to find an empty bed. He began to search frantically through the

halls for someone who might have an explanation. Instead, he found the source. Race had turned a corner to find Jack

leaning nonchalantly against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. "You mista should be in bed." Jack just grinned, "Aw you

know me Race. I gets antsy." Race just shook his head. "Yo' loss." "So uh, Race, wadya find out?" His smile vanished, "Well,

uh, Jack, we, we didn't find so much. Actually, we uh didn't find nuttin'." Jacks face fell. "Ise real so'y Jack." Snipeshooter

abruptly burst around the corner slamming into Race, "whoa der kid, hold yo' hoises." Babbling frantically Snipeshooter

yelled, "Well, deys, deys tink, well, I tink, well, wad I mean ta say is uh, dat, dat" Jack took Snipes chin forcing him to look

directly into his eyes and calmly said, "Breath kid, breath. Now wad is it you've been tryin' ta say?" "we tinks we's found

spot!" Races head shot up and Jack nodded. "Go on find im." A second later Snipeshooter and Race exploded through the

entrance of the hospital.

Snipeshooter slowed down to a halt at a deep alley near the bridge. "In der." Snipeshooter pointed. Race cautiously

stepped into the alley and found a boy of Spots' size lying mangled in a garbage heap. The boy was barely breathing,

probably barely alive. His knee was twisted and swollen and his head was covered in recently dried blood. Race lit a match

and held it up to the kids face. The poor boy's lips had been dried together with blood forcing him to breath through his

nose. Although strenuously, the boys eyes slid open. There was no doubt, this was Spot Conlon. Only one thing deeply

troubled Race. These eyes were despairing, vacant and withdrawn; Spot Conlon had eyes that gleamed with arrogance and

knowing sarcasm. Turning towards the entrance Race called to Snipeshooter, "Go get da doctah! And bring uh lantoin back

wit ya!"

Back at the hospital Jack watched, powerless, as his best friend was rushed in. To make matters worse, he didn't have the

strength to keep up. This alone left him feeling angry and useless. As Jack struggled to keep the dams closed a hand rested

on his shoulder. He absentmindedly turned to face its owner. Michelle. Jack did not recognize her as he looked upon her

impassivly. "Uh, do I know you?" Jack half listened as Michelle explained who she was and how she had found him on the

bridge. She continued to share how sorry she was not to realize his friend had been in trouble. All the while Jack stared at

the empty hall that Spot had disappeared down. "Yeah, uh, well nice ta meet ya lady." He slowly sauntered mindlessly away,

swaying and mumbling as he went. Frowning, Michelle called to him. "Hey you okay der?" Turning, Jack mumbled one more

unintelligible thing and passed out. "Help! Nuiyse! Nuiyse!" Michelle knelt beside jack and checked his pulse as a young

woman arrived to help.


	3. The new girl

Michelle, by process of elimination, had chosen Manhattan . She was terribly close to picking Brooklyn , but after she received

absolutely no respect from a single newsy, she changed her mind. Harlem was run by a beanstalk of a girl who had no ability

to lead whatsoever and the Bronx lacked any worthy qualities as well. So, on account of her decision, Michelle was now on

her way to the newsboys lodging house in Manhattan . Upon arrival Michelle was welcomed with what seemed the farthest

thing from warm. Mush had just been checking in when Michelle strode through the door. "What do you tink your doin?" He

exclaimed. A cold expression engraved in his face. Swallowing hard Michelle finally replied, 'I'm a newsy from Chicago ." Mush

sat down, his expression not wavering. "So, wadya doin ere?" "Our lodging house buiynt down and I didn't exactly prefer

any of da uddah available spots so-wait! Why on Gawds green eaiyth am I explainen me self ta you any how?!" Mush stood

and stepped up so that the two of them were face to face. "Because, until Jack, Race, and Blink get back from da hospital,

Ise in charge." "Well den, uh, Please." Her response even surprised herself. "I ain't going back ta Chicago and so far dis has

been da only place Ise found reasonable. Wit youse as an exception acouiyse." Mush frowned before replying, "Jack would

say yes, so uh, until he's back shoah, but youse gotta convince im, not me." "Uh thank I guess." Michelle paid her fine and

sprinted up the stairs. "Heya sweets!" called Skittery, "What's a fine goiyl like you doin round here?" Michelle smirked and

threw the few items she owned on the nearest bunk. "Well, uh" "Da names Skittery" "Skitttery, da bible told me to trust in

da Loiyd wid all me heart and ta lean not on me own undestanden, an in all me ways ta acknowledge im. So He would make

me path straight. Guess what? He led me ere. So I'm ere." Skitts just stared at her as if she was from another planet. "Uh,

dats nice, real nice. Wanna meet da guys?" Michelle nodded and stepped in Line behind Skittery as he spilled out all the

names of the boys surrounding them. Although trying her best to keep up Michelle soon lost track and was utterly confused.

"Well I ain't dat great wid names, but I'll give it me best shot." Skittery smiled, "Dats all we ask." At that moment Blink

appeared at the top of the stairs, completely wiped out. Michelle recognized him from the hospital, and, well, it ain't that

hard to remember a kid with an eye patch. "Long day?" Blink nodded and continued to make his way towards his bunk when

it finally clicked. Blinks head shot up, "Hey! Ain't you dat goiyl from dat night? From da hospital? What are ya doin ere?" "I'm

Michelle, are youse a friend a Jacks?" "A friend? We is practically blood!" "Well den. Ise da goiyl who found im on da bridge. I

came ere ta get some rest. Speakin a which, I'm beat." With that Michelle turned toward her bunk and without another word

kicked off her shoes and climbed in.

Michelle was aroused the next morning bright and early to the sound of an old man yelling and about 30 boys groaning. She

slowly rolled out of bed and sauntered to the wash room. Splashing her face she looked up to find herself face to face with

Mush's abs. Standing up straight she uttered her good morning and quickly turning away reminding herself of her mothers

most used and least enjoyed verse. 1st Thessalonians 4:3-5 "It is God's will that you should be sanctified: that you should

avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control their body in a way that is holy and honorable not in

passionate lust like the heathen." _Sexual immorality, humph, like I could if I wanted to! He hates me!_ Michelle proceeded to

return to her bunk room, throw on her shoes, grab a few coins and bound out the door. Blink had told her that if she were to

stay at the lodging house she was going to have to sell papers. Michelle was eager to begin again; it had been such a long

time since she had hawked a headline. As she entered the Distribution Center Blink and Skittery rushed up to greet her.

"Startin so soon?" called Skitts. "Heya boys! Well lemme tell ya somtin. There's a time for everything and a season for every

activity under heaven." Blink looked Michelle over from her curly auburn hair and hazel eyes to her dirty ankles just above

her ragged high tops before stating, "You're kinda weird ya know dat?" Simpering Michelle replied, "Ain't we all?" Pivoting

Michelle boldly approached the window slammed down two coins and declared "Fifty papes if you will." Mr. Wiesel smirked,

"And if I will not?" "Then you just lost yoah best customer" "Oh is that so?" "Youse betta believe it! Now puh-leese gimme

my papes." Mr. Wiesel slammed down the papers and called, "Next!" Michelle skipped over and began to peruse the paper.

Before anyone could try anything she proclaimed, "A'ight boys! I sell alone, so I'll see ya at lunch!" With that she exited the

gates and began to holler. Although quite surprised the boys left it at that and went about their usual days.

Back at the hospital Jack could be found sitting at his friend's side praying he'd wake up. And finally he did. And when Spot

was up, he was up. "If it ain't be Jack be nimble Jack be quick." He mumbled as his eyes scanned the room. Jack smiled at his

friend, "Bout time you came around." Spot smirked, his eyes aglow with the old air of the brash leader of the Brooklyn

newsies. "Wats dat supposed ta mean?" Jack shrugged, "Ahh nuttin, Ise just glad you're a'ight." Race suddenly burst in

eager to share his news. "Da Nuiyse told me dat youse can go back today Jack! Ah Heya Spot. Spot?! Youse awake?" "Naw,

Race Ise sleepin, wadded ya tink I was doin?" "Well if ya put it dat way, go back ta your comma ya grouch!" Jack quickly

changed the subject knowing full well that no matter how bed ridden Spot may be, if he was angry, he was gonna fight

about it. "Well Ise gonna go get me tings." He left the room quickly. With Race right behind him "Dats wad I thought ya

coward!" "Go ta bed Spot! Get some rest!"

It was almost noon when Michelle sold her very last pape. As she strolled towards Tibby's a hand grabbed her wrist yanking

her into an alley. Before she could do anything to retaliate another boy thrust his fist into her gut and smacked her jaw.

"Hey! Get your grubby hands offa her!" Skittery raced into the alley and began to pound on the two boys. "Wait! Skitts! You

don't gotta do dat." She said grabbing his wrist, "just let tem go." Skittery pulled back still confused by her actions. As soon

as they were gone he cried, "What was dat all about?! I come an help you and den you back dem up? Wats da matttah wid

youse?" Michelle grimaced at his words and began to protest, "I didn't mean ta hoiyt ya Skitts, Ise just didn't want us ta be

like dem. Ya gotta love your enemies, and pray for dose who puiysecute ya." Skittery frowned, "Dats da stupidest ting I ever

hoiyed!" "Well sorry!!But da truth huiyts!" Skitts shook his head and opened the door to Tibby's motioning for her to step in.

A large group of newsies had already gathered once the two entered. The younger ones scurried about with wooden

swords and such. Blink was sitting with Mush and called them over not noticing his look of protest. Blink grinned cheekily as

they approached, "So how was your foiyst day sellin?" "Hey, I never said it was me foiyst! And it went great! Sellin here's a

lot better den back in Chicago ." "Good ta heah." As Michelle ordered a hot dog Skittery noticed Mush sulking in the corner of

the booth. "Hey! What's up wid youse?" Mush glanced up, "Ahh nuttin' much. Ise just tired, grumpy and want tings back ta

normal." Skittery totally understood what he meant. Life was different with out Jack and Spot around, not to mention the

ever present Race. Quiet, yet at the same time not in control. Things were, well, unorganized.


	4. Preacher

"It's about time dey lemme go." Said Jack as he and Race walked through the hospital towards the exit. The two turned

quickly when they heard yelling and a loud crash. "Ise don't want any frigin' crutches! Ise tried im befo' and deys just a pain in

da ass!" Cried Spot as he threw the crutch across the room in rage while at the same time terrifying the young nurse. Jack

and Race now stood in the door way amused. Race beaming stated, "Well someone's feelin a heck of a lot betta." Spot

stopped his rampage to face his friends. "Ahh, Heya fellas! Dis heah Nuiyse tinks she's gonna get me on ta some crutches!"

Jack shook his head smiling, "Imagine dat." Turning to the young woman he continued, "So'y ma'am but, uh, Ise don't tink

youse gonna be getting any crutches on im for some time. Good luck any how. Spot, we'll be back 'kay? Jus' try not ta cause

too much trouble." Spot grinned, "Yeah, what evah!" With that Jack and Race left the room.

That evening, as the boys scattered in, they were all equally relieved to find Jack and Race back at the lodging house. "Heya

Cowboy, Race!" "So, what exactly happened?" "Where's Spot? "Is he dead?" "You've been missin' fo' like evah!" "Where ya

been?" Everyone began blurting out questions all at once, none given time to be answered. Finally Jack cried, "Whoa der

boys! One at a time, one at a time."

Mush stepped up, "So uh, what exactly 'appened?"

Jack set himself down on a his bunk, "Ise, Ise really, ain't sho'. I mean, we wus jus tawkin and a random group of thugs

showed up, particularly sore at Spot, who claims he's nevah hoiyed a dem in his life."

"People do dat some times, stupidity, wit out tinken at all." Offered Race

Jack shook his head "Naw dese guys went as fa' as ta separate us, and de knew bout Spots knee."

Blink frowned, "I jes don't get it? How somebody could do dis? I mean, Ise undestand soaken someone in anger, but ta near

kill a guy..."

Just then Michelle waltzed up the steps. "Ah, look who's back from da dead! How ya feelin Lazarus?"

Jack turned, "Uh, Michelle right? Yeah well uh, youse plannen on stayen fo a while?" She nodded, "Dat is if youse'll lemme."

Jack stepped closer to Michelle, "Wat makes ya tink I will?" "Oh I jes know dese things." "Well yer right, welcome ta

Manhattan!" He spit in his hand and held it out for her to shake, she did the same. "Now fo' a nick name, ya gotta have one a

dose." Skittery was all over this one, "Let's call her Preacha, she won't quit preachen ta me dat is." This got a laugh out of the

boys. "Preacha it is" announced Jack. "Well felluh's! Ise beat, see ya in da morning."

In the middle of the night, Michelle, stirred she, reached for her old rugged, bible, her most prized possession, and headed for

the window. She quietly lifted herself onto the fire escape and retreated to the roof. Little did she know, Mush couldn't sleep

that night either. He swiftly followed her up.

Mush stopped short, _had Preacha always looked dis beautiful?_ The moon light glowed on her auburn curls, her tiny frame

hunched over her bible. "Couldn't sleep eider?" Michelle's voce startled Mush out of his day dream.

"Umm yeah. Say uh, Ise real so'y bout how I uh, acted de odder day." Michelle smiled.

"Its a'ight, I kinda showed up in da middle of a crisis. It's understandable." Mush took a seat next to her, "Honestly, you prolly

couldn't uh come at a betta time. Jack's real lucky you showed when you did." It was dark, but Mush could tell she was

blushing. "So, Michelle, how'd you become a newsie anyhow?" Taking a deep breath Michelle looked Mush dead in the eyes.

"Mush, Ise been a newsie fo' a long time." She then allowed her eyes to wander. "My pa, he was a preacha' real outspoken,

ya know da type?" Mush nodded, "Yeah well, he was shot and killed when I was six. This bible's me only memory of dat man.

It wuz his. And me mudduh, well she died when I wuz like eight. After dat Ise became a newsie, till the lodging house buiynt

dat is. Now Ise ere." Mush looked into her soft eyes as they stood. "How old aw you?" An unexplainable expression crowded

her face. "Sixteen, you?" "Ise seventeen." He placed both his hands on her shoulders and slid them down to her elbows

leaning in until there faces were inches apart. "We should head back in." he whispered. "yeah, I tink you' right." She was

drowning in his swarthy brown eyes. Michelle pecked him on the check and promptly turned towards the fire escape. They

snuck back in hoping their visit had gone unnoticed.


	5. what he heard

The following morning Blink approached Mush at the distribution center.

"So, uh, what was wid you an Preacha last night?"

Mush stepped back; he had thought everyone slept through their little discussion. "Wadya, wadya mean?"

"Oh, I tink youse know wad I mean." Mush raised his hands in defense. "Nuttin! We's jes tawkin! Couldn't sleep, you know!"

Blink rolled his eyes, "Oh sure, knowin you…" "Knowin Preacha! It wuz nuttin! Besides wats it madda ta youse any how?"

Blink sighed, "She's one of us now, hoiyt her an I'll hafta hoiyt you so don't be stupid."

Across the court yard Jack was thoroughly enjoying getting back into his routine. "Ya miss me Weasel? Well ya should" Jack

grinned at the glares he was receiving from the Delancies and their boss.

"I'll take da usual, if dats okay wid you. Not dat yo' opinion madda's o' nuttin."

Michelle collected her fifty papes and plopped down next to Race to check out the headlines.

"Fifty papes? Ise taught you wuz new at dis?" Jack seated himself on her other side.

"Nah, Jack, I nevah said dat. Ise sold in Chicago fo' quite a while, in fact Ise bets dat I could out sell you any day!" Race perked up to this, "My moneys on Jack!" he cried.

Jack raised his eyebrows, "Don't dat bible a yours say somtin bout lyin?"

Her smile widened, "Ise ain't lyin! Ise jes doin what da writers don't dare ta do."

"Improven da truth?" "Yeah dats it, improven da truth." Jack grinned turning his attention to Race, "I like dis kid."

"I ain't a kid Jacky boy," With that she promptly stood up and left.

"Rancid Corpse found at Central Station!" Cried Michelle.

A young woman in a massive dress with a house of a hat on her head flipped Michelle a penny and waddled away carrying Michelle's last pape.

Jack waltzed into the hospital. His mood soaring, Jack was back to his favorite thing in all New York and oh how he' missed it. He stopped short at Spot's room when he heard voices.

"Ya know, Ise been ere befo' an it was crappy. But you, you make all da difference." A girl giggled "Awe Spot, ya ova estimate me, Ise no good at dis Nuiyse business"

"Oh, but you must be!" exclaimed Jack as he entered with a grin on his face. "Ya don't get a complement like dat every day, especially from Spot Conlon."

Spot looked up, his face revealing no sign of surprise. He was seated upright with his hands resting carelessly behind his head.

"Heya Jack! Dis ere is Marie, Marie dis is me good pal Jack." The petite girls' hair curled in bouncy blonde locks around her pail complexion and rosy cheeks.

"It's a pleasha ta meet ya Jack."

"Same ta you. So Spot, when do ya get out a dis prison?"

"My knee's almost good enough ta stand on. Dats when da doc is plannen on releasing me."

"Good, cuz you' boys aw getten them selves in ta trouble with out ya dere ta whip im in ta shape."

"Oh ise'll be back soon enough. So did ya find anything on dem thugs?"

Jack shook his head, "no, but Preacha, she's the goiyl who found me, apparently saw one a dem, so wese gonna go have a sketch artist tawk ta her."

Spot and Jack talked for a while more before Jack headed out.

On the way home Jack recognized one of the scrawnier men from the attack. Carefully keeping to the shadows Jack followed

the man. The man arrived at a worn down shack inside the front window, Jack could make out the silhouettes of several men.

He crawled up underneath and jumped in on the conversation. "I gave you clear orders!" Screamed a deep voice, "Why can't

you people do anything right? Net time I won't be so kind! So finish the job! I want my son dead by Tuesday! And DO NOT

GET CAUGHT!" Jack took in a sharp breath, _they couldn't, he couldn't, and Spot didn't have a dad! Did he? No…_Jack prepared to

leave when the men discovered him "Hey! What do you think you're doing kid!? Get him!" Jack took off at a full sprint, and

fortunately his head start and knowledge of the city allowed his escape. He found Michelle waiting for him at the lodging

house. "Where ya been, I taught we had a date." Jack sat down next to her and lit a cigarette. "So'y bout dat. Ise got

distracted."

Michelle looked at him incredulously. "MORE important than finding your attackers?" "Its jus dat. Ise found em, and eavesdropped a lil. Deys gonna go aftah Spot again. Dey wants em dead." Michelle looked at Jack in horror, "But why? I don't

understand." "Yeah me eider. Dere's somtin Spot ain't sharen wid us. Either dese men aw mistaken o' Spot has a fadduh and

e don't want Spot around." Michelle and Jack sat in silence until mush and Blink walked up. "Hey ya Jack!" beamed Blink,

"wese gonna head up ta Medda's you wanna join?" Mush jumped in, "Yeah, you too Preacha! You still haven't been ta

Medda's yet!" Michelle stood, "I'd love ta." Jack on the other hand had business to attain to. "Ise gotta talk wid Spot. It's

kinda impo'tant, but I might stop fo' a drink latah.


	6. The only witness

Spot and Marie were shamelessly flirting when Jack entered the hospital room

Spot and Marie were shamelessly flirting when Jack entered the hospital room. It only took a moment for Spot to catch on to

Jacks anger as he stood fuming in the door way. Glancing from Jack to Marie, Spot leaned over and whispered, "Uh, I tink youse

should go now. Just foah a moment though." She bounced up and brushed past Jack, her blonde curls bouncing behind her.

"So, wats up?" inquired Spot. "Oh Ise tink you know. Gotta history lesson you wanna fill me in on Spot?" Spot leaned forward,

"Watcha tawkin bout Jacky boy?" Grabbing a chair Jack plopped himself down, "Youse gotta fadduh. He wants you dead.

Wats dis all about?" Taken aback Spots eyes iced over. "Youse don't gotta know. Dis don't involve you." Jack flew out of his

chair knocking it back. "I'd say Ise got involved back at da bridge! Dontcha remember Spot! Da night I got dis!" Jack revealed

a nasty gash, still attempting to heal, under his sleeve.

"A'ight, a'ight! Just cool it already! I'll tell ya, jes sit down!" Setting the chair upright Jack, now scowling, placed himself in it.

"Well?" he prodded. Taking a deep breath Spot allowed his mind to wander back to that fateful night.

Near ten years ago Spot had belonged to a well off family in society. He and his mother were very close, coming together

under the fist of his abusive father. The night Spot fled his home was just after he'd witnessed his drunken father brutally

beat his mother to death. Young Spot, cowering under the table had made a mad dash for the door. After a narrow escape

Spot had sprinted full speed away as his father screamed threats into the dark night. To this day Spots father continues to

hunt down the only witness to his unforgivable crime.

Jacks face had softened quite a bit, "Spot, I had no idea" "Course you didn't!" snapped Spot, "Ise nevah told youse. But now,

with, with me friends involved, Ise donno what ta do!" Jack looked his friend in the eyes (which is not an easy thing ta do

mind you!), "Youse gotta let us help ya. Help put em away for good." Frowning Spot replied, "Yeah, but we newsies don't get

along so well wit da bulz. You of all people should know dat." Smirking as he stood to leave, Jack countered, "Oh, but I know

someone who does."

**I know it's short, but hey the next one will be better! please review!**


	7. Must Rely

Jack finally reached the right street. Hopping up the fire escape he knocked on the window to be

greeted by Sarah. "Oh, hi Jack." While she smiled sweetly he simply scowled. They'd broken

up a little while after the strike. "Is Davy ere?" Sarah waved him in and then left to retrieve her younger brother.

"Ise need yer help…" started Jack once David entered the room. He sat down, "When do you not." "Ha ha very funny, so,

wese been gone foah a while an deres a reason. We wuz attacked. Spot's still in da hospital." Jack

stopped for a moment as David waited patiently. "But wese know who did it. And deys plannen on

hitten Spot again. So cuz every body who's anybody knows we can't go to da cops, they ain't got no

respect, but if you or your pa, say went den maybe we could stop it in time." David sighed, "How big

are they, in society? Would going to the cops do anything?" Jack stood, "See dere's the thing, say, Ise

went to da bolls den everything could easily swing around, get me in trouble, Spot killed and da killer

home free. But if you go, higher class ya know, den maybe, jes maybe we'd have a chance. Jes tink

about it will ya?" With that they spit shook and Jack climbed out the window and disappeared into the

darkness leaving David to ponder all he'd said.

"But we gotta help em, I mean, we just gotta. He's done so much for us and I mean it'd be the least we

can do. I can get the information necessary from Jack and all we have to do is head down town and

make our complaint. It's as easy as that. And besides this is someone's life we're talking about here!"

Exclaimed David. His father leaned back in his chair, "Here's what we'll do. You go talk to Jack and

get all the information he has, bring it to me and then, only then will we decide whether this is worth

even trying." David flew out of his chair, "Thanks dad! Thank you so much!" "But now David it's

time for you to go to bed." Interjected his mother, "Yes mother."

Jack sauntered over to Medda's. It was quiet outside except for the sounds of the party slipping out.

Music, shouts, and laughter rang out into the night. Jack finally stepped inside. Blink turned to greet

him as he entered. "Bout time youse showed up! Preacha ere jes schooled Race three times at poker!

Three times! It's incredible!" Jack nodded and let his eyes roam the party. "You know what? Ise could

go foah a stiff drink right about now." Blink simply shrugged, "Go on! No ones stoppin ya."

That night Jack left the party early, he'd downed several drinks. Sullenly, Jack entered the bunk room

and quickly passed out in his bunk.

Michelle entered the lodging house beaming, Race, Blink and Mush by her side. "Wow! If I keep dat

up, Ise prolly won't even need ta sell!" Laughing carelessly the three entered the bunk room and broke

off to get ready for bed. Michelle noticed Jack turning distressed in a fitful sleep. Genuinely

concerned, Michelle Furrowed her brow trying to think of what could be bothering him. _Okay, so he _

_was drinking pretty bad from the moment he entered Medda's so it happened before that. Last I saw _

_him we were supposed to meet, but he didn't show, said something about Spot's Father. That was it! _

_Maybe things with Spot didn't go over so well. Or maybe they did._

"Hey Preacha! Tell Race to keep is grubby hands offa me!" Michelle giggled as she watched the two

boys wrestle. Mush crawled up to her grasping at her dress, "Me lady! Save me! Save Me!" With that

he swung behind her as Race advanced. "Now boys! Self control!" After a short while the energy from

the party vanished leaving the newsies to sleepily pull themselves into their beds and allowed Michelle

peace, aside from snoring boys, to think about how she should, or could handle the distressed

Manhattan leader.


	8. help me save him, help me save us

When Michelle popped up the next morning she found Jack missing from his bunk. Knowing the other boys probably weren't going to wake up any time soon she through on her clothes and cap and left the

lodging house.

It had been a while and Michelle had gotten to know Jack pretty well, through himself, and the other boys, mainly Mush. So, the first place she headed was Central Park. As the docks are to Conlon, this park isto Kelly.

Sure enough Cowboy was sulking in a great Oak tree. "Yo cowboy, wats eaten at ya?" called out Michelle. Barely shifting his composure Jack called back "Nuttin much, jes doin some tinkin." this seemed an

exceptable responce, but his voice was hoarse, like he hadn't gotten any sleep, or like he'd been yellin or somthing. _or drinking_ thought Michelle. "Youse a bad lyuh Kelly, tell me what happened last night."

Jack looked down at the girl below him, she seemed so young, but after a moments ligering you begin to see the lines etched in, full of passion, sorrow, distress, the things you are only supposed to see in

an adult. Jack was sure he had those same features, most newsies would, innocent, yet not so much.

Jack hopped down and started to walk, beckoning her to follow. "I learned somthing new last night, and I wanna make it right, I gotta protect Spot, He's more important to the newsie way of life than you'd

think." explained Jack. Michelle glanced over at him, his eyes were so sincere. Abruptly, Jack haulted and turned towards her, "you saw em right?" Michelle frowned, "who? the attackers?" "yeah. dem." "well

sure, mainly the big guy wit da beard though." "help me preachah, help me save him, help me save us." "I'd do anyting foah a fellow newsie,you know dat. An speaken a which we gotta go wake up dem

slackers."

That afternoon Michelle, near half done with her load bumped into an all to familiar somebody. Looming over her the dark figure smiled, "Exscuse me miss." Gasping Michelle fell back stuttering in a panic, "It's,

it's you, your the the one who, who, who-" Before she could finish the man realized he had' ran into a witness, grabbing her by the mouth and waist the man drug her into a nearby alley. "Tell me everything

you know and I'll spare your pitiful life girly." Michelle spun, and spat into the mans face. "I ain't tellin youse nuttin! Now lemme go!" The man grabbed a fistful of her hair ramming her head into the brick wall

behind her. Warm blood began to trickle down to her neck. Glancing to her Left Michelle caught sight of kid blink, biting the mans hand, she took an oppurtunity to call for help, "BLINK!!! HELP ME BLI-"Caught

off once again the man througn Michelle to the ground and hissed, "I'll find ya, an when I do you're dead. With a kick to the gut, the man retreated down the alley as Blink arrived by Michelle's side, "Preach,

youse alright? Wat appened? Who was dat? Wad he want? Am I asken to many questions?" In a daze Michelle nodded her head, "Bring me home Blink, jes bring me home." Blink scooped Michelle up and

carried her in his arms to the lodging house where he layed her gently on her bunk and ran to get Kloppman.


	9. Rallyen da troops

"she's waken up!" "Quite yo' hollerin!" "Back up, back up"

As her eyes came in to focus Michelle was welcomed to the sight of nearly every Manhattan Newsie.

"hey ya. Fellas." She uttered in a faint voice, "watchoo lookin at?"

As was their tendency, all the boys began their inquiries at once, Michelle cringed at the increase in noise level. Mush noticing hollered for silence.

Blink drew up a chair by her bunk, "You know who did dis?" he asked. Michelle thought back for a moment. Recalling the reason she was sentenced to bed rest. "yeah," she croaked, "yeah it was da man from da bridge." An uncharacteristic hush fell over the group. Finally Race spoke up. "Why, why youse Preachuh?" Frowning before she replied, Michelle looked up, "Ise a witness."

Jack ran up the stairs, "Ise hoiyd wat happened! Youse okay preach?" She nodded. "It was Mr. Conlin wasn't it, the big man, bushy beayd?"

Another nod, though slower this time, as astonishment swept over. "that's wat last night wus about wasn't it? Youse loiyned da truth!" her voice was just above a whisper.

The newsies began to get antsy, confused whispers broke out all around. "A'ight!" yelled Jack, " Wese need every man! Spot witnessed his pa muiydeuh his ma. He's de only witness. Davy's family's tryin to get a couiyt hearin, so wese gotta be ready. Dis might be our only chance to save Spot, to save Brooklyn, essentially, to save da Newsie way of life! Youse folluh?" A shout of affirmation rang out.

"Now here's what we gotta do."

Ever since the strike, each newsie knew how to listen obey and perform whatever task was bestowed upon them. So within moments they had dispersed, some to Meddas place, some to Denton, others to Brooklyn, and still more to the varied surrounding Newsie groups.

Before they could say 'Carryin da banner' Jack and Michelle were alone.

"Did he huiyt youse?" asked Jack, genuinely concerned. "Just a concussion." Replied Michelle.

"Youse a target now. You gotta be wary." Another nod. "I'm gonna leave you be foah now. Just rest."


	10. On is behalf

Davy and his dad walked up to the police department's main desk. A red head behind the counter turned around. Smacking her gum she looked them over clearly annoyed that someone had dared interrupt her peaceful day.

"Excuse me miss." His dad began. "But we'd like to report a murder." She squinted at him, "Well fill out a form dey're over by da wa" "Not a recent one mam, one that occurred a long time ago, the case never closed."

A noise of annoyance squeaked out. "Well then, uh name sir?" She'd pulled out a piece of paper. "Mam I'm not a witness, I came on behalf of one. He's unable to come out of hiding right now. Fear of being killed himself."

Once again the high pitch noise escaped her lips. "Well a'ighty den. May I have da name of the original victim?" Davies dad shifted, "Rose shay Conlin"

The woman's head snapped up. "Dere was no witness for dat muiyduh! I wuz ere when dat happened, no buddy came forward!"

"well mam, he was a young boy at the time. In hiding, fearful of the same fate,.  
Only just now has he stepped forward."

"well, well, well. So wats da name a dis young man?" "Well, mam. He, he is only known to me as Spot, spot Conlon."

"Lemme guess" she quipped, "da son. Dey told us he disappeared that night, presumably dead. But ey, who am I ta talk? I'll schedule a meating for you to discuss."

As Dave and his dad were about to leave she added one more thing, "Uh, if ya don't mindmme asken. Who does he claim did it?" Dave looked up to his dad who's face went grim. "I'd rather not say, in, in such an open place."

With that the two left. "Hey dad, do you think dat deyse gonna do it?"

"If they don't, they will hear from me again. That is for sure."


	11. A stubborn gimp

It was mid afternoon when Skittery was reclining in the lodging house. He looked up and gave a start. Standing before him was Spot Conlon. "Hey, uh, wait, youse got out?"

"Nice deduction Skitts, but uh yeah, got out this morning, but tanks ta me gimpy leg it took me most uh da afternoon getten up dese stinkin stairs!"

Knowing better than to comment Blink simply asked, "So uh why exactly aw yuh ere?"

"Well I was lookin foah Jacky Boy, but uh, since he ain't ere right now, I tink I'll just wait." said Spot taking a seat on the nearest bunk, only to find a body in it, "WOAH DERE!" He hollered, "wat da?"

Skitts relized what had happened right away, and so did Michelle, because she was the body. "Who in dere right mind!?" She cut short upon seeing Spot.

He smirked at her, "Well, what Newsie in dere right mind, would be snoozing in da middle of da day?"

Michelle's expression sobered. But Skittery intercepted. "Spot, uh she was attacked yesterday." He drew in a breath, "By your father."

Spot exploded, "DON'T YOUSE GO BRINGEN UP ME FADUH!" Her roared.

Skittery backed away and before he regained his composure Jack appeared. "It's true Spot, he wants her gone, she's our only witness for what happened on the bridge."

Immediately Spots face morphed from crimson to white. "He, he, he. No. No more. We need ta finish dis. And da only way ta do dat is in puiyson. Me or him dis time."

"SPOT NO!" Jack cried. "We have dis handled! Wese keepen her in hidden, and Davy's getting us a couyt date. Wese got Denton and Medda ta vouch for ya! Don't go blowin dis! Wese needs ya!"

Spot was glowering. "Try an stop me." The evenness in his tone was eerie.

"Heya gimp, at least postpone till youse can walk."

Spots eyes went to ice. "Ise'll be in Brooklyn. And I don't need an escort." He began the long trek down the stairs, or at leas tit felt that way in his condition.

The moment he was out the door Jack turned to Skittery. Go find Stealth and Chips. Tell em ta follow Spot ta Brooklyn and ta not be seen. If anyting happens, have Chips come back here, and we'll be ready ta help. An tell Stealth, dat he should try an postpone any deaths at least until wese get dere. If he makes it home safe, come on back."

With that Skittery took off, once again leaving Jack alone with Michelle.

She looked up at him. "Do youse mean ta tell me you're gonna keep me hostage until da couyt date? Cus dat ain't exactly floaten me boat."

Jack sighed, "Youse can go out I guess, but you can't be alone, _**ever**_."

He looked her in the eyes for a moment, as if to gain consent. And left,.


	12. Broken Birdrevised

**K, so based on reviews I heard that the last chapter was rather confusing, and reading it back to myself, you were completly right. So I addefd some things and made some changes. If it still needs work let me know because I'm here to please my readers, so thank you for being honest! **

Stealth and chips quietly pursued Spot, wary of the people all around. Stealth was the top bird for Manhattan, never caught, never noticed, always accurate. Chips, still in training, was around 12, and Stealth, 16 loved her like as a sister. Chips love for him was a bit different though, she had always admired him, which is why she volunteered so eagerly to become a bird. "Ise kinda nuiyvous, dis bein me foiyst task and all," whispered Chips. "Aw, youse'll do fine, it's an easy stawt." assured Stealth. He motioned for silence, upon reaching the bridge. They realized that if they were going to remain unnoticed they would have to hold up and allow a little more distance between themselves and Spot.

Spot was deep in thought, he'd been frustrated since Jack had learned the truth, they care to much, they need to just back off, let him lie low for a while. But even Spot knew deep down that it was impossible for him, the King of Brooklyn, to simply disappear. It was a lose lose situation, every option, every idea had a downside overruling all the good. Spot had gotten so inverted as he mulled over the problem that he hadn't even noticed the approaching men. They quickly brought him down and tried in vain to silence him. In a moment of horror and realization, a thought hit Spot, Jack always sends birds, so he yelled at the top of his lungs, sending up a prayer that he had been heard.

A cry rang out into the night. Sharing a knowing look, Chips sprinted back towards Manhattan and Stealth ran towards the action. A ring of men had surrounded the fallen King and were beating him. Stealth immediately did the first thing that came to his mind, a distraction, "Spotty it's da bulz!!!!!! Youse gotta get outa ere!!!!!" The men looked around fearing the worst only to see Stealth, he ran at the men and skidded to a halt. He was never much of a fighter, which is why his job was a bird. Watch the action, report the action, never start or stop it, but here he had no choice. With a loud battle cry he ran at the group swinging his fists uncontrollably. He took quite the beating before the men left, hoping that the two newsies would be caught by the police.

By the time the Manhattan group had arrived, the men had retreated expecting the police to arrive at any moment. Chips ran to Stealth's side as the rest separated between Spot and the bird. Chips couldn't help her tears, "Youse is da bravest boiyd ise evuh laid me eyes on." she whispered as she stroked his battered face. Jack quickly split the group into two halves, the first half's job was to take Spot to his boys in Brooklyn, the second half's job was to bring Stealth back home.

Jack sighed wishing he had ignored Spots wishes and sent a larger group along in the first place. Now his best bird was injured and Spot, worse off then before. There was a light side to the situation at hand, it bought him more time to plan everything out, and it gave Michelle a task to keep herself busy while in hiding. She can play nurse for a while.

Michelle gasped as an entourage of newsies carried in the wounded bird. "Ere, place im on dis bunk." she ordered, "Bring me some watuh, several cloths and uh, foiyst aid kit." She and Chips knelt beside Stealth, Chips holding his hand. "He'se gonna be jis fine, jis fine." Michelle assured with a smile. "Ya tink so Preachuh?" inquired the young newsie, Michelle looked down at the girl, "Ise know so."


	13. It begins with Mr Conlon

Spot awoke to an experience he deemed, far from pleasant. His knee felt as if it were on fire, he swore he could hear the pumping of his heart inside his

head, and his rip cage was throbbing as well. As he opened his eyes to survey his surroundings he became aware of his swollen left eye. The only assuring part

of the entire ordeal was one simple fact, he was home, he smelt the welcoming scent of ink, sweat and cigar smoke. He also heard the murmur of newsies f

ighting over what he presumed was a poker game. A voice broke him out of his trance. "Spot, uh, aw youse awake in dere? Can I come in an ave a chat wit

ya?"

Spot looked up with his good eye and saw a tall scrawny newsie with shaggy chocolate brown hair. It was his faithful friend and fellow newsie, Brick. Spot and

Brick had joined the Brooklyn Newsies around the same time, Spot aggressive and fearless, Brick wise and intuitive. The pair made an unmatchable team and

once the responsibility was handed to the two, they morphed the Brooklyn boys into an unstoppable power house in the newsie world. Growing up they had

always had each others backs so what had occurred over the past few weeks had really hit Brick hard .

"Heya Brick, long time no see." Spot smirked, but Brick remained sober. "Too long Spotty, ise donno what I'd do wid out cha. I spoke wit da boys, deyse gonna

help take down you fadduh."

Too weary to be angry, and especially with his best friend, Spot just looked away, "youse told em?"

"Nevuh Spotty, I'd nevuh. Ise told em we had ta take a man down, or Brooklyn was comin down. An dey jumped right in."

Spot couldn't believe it, after all these years and in these strenuous circumstances, Brick had kept his word. Filled with relief Spot broke into a grin, and just as

quickly, with all things cleared, he had to get to business, "So tell me what aw me boiydees squawken about?"

Brick sighed much had been shaken with the past events. Near mutiny arrose among the boys when Spot first went missing, then once found, but bed ridden, t

he other territories began to stir. The only thing that kept them at bay were rumors of his return. And not to mention many of the fugitive newsies feared a

battle with government, with the adult world, regarding Spots father. It was a lot to deal with, especially for an injured leader. But Brick was prepared to do

anything to get life in Brooklyn back to normal, and begins with Mr. Conlon.


	14. Authors note

Well chaps, I know I'm oober lame with my slowness, but I try I really do!!! I'm about half way done with the next chapter, I've become rather picky, and it's not as if I have the whole story planned out, I have a little bit of the ending in my noggin, but besides that I make it up as I go along. So THANK YOU SO MUCH for bearing with me as I experiment with this process, after all, this is my first fanfic. Hopefully in the next week I'll have my next chapter, "Sanctuary" all finished and published. Just wanted to let you know that you most certainly have not been abandoned! Have a wonderful day!!!!

Coco


	15. We have ourselves a court date

**Hello All!!! I am SO EXTREMELY SORRY for taking so long. I hate to do that to you because I hate it when people do that to me. =D So here it is, the next thrilling chapter to my story. Enjoy!-Coco**

"If he don't get back ta us by tonight, me boys and I aw gonna take mattuhs into aw own hands!" warned Spot. He turned icily and promptly limped away.

Race laid wary eyes on his leader. Times were strenuous and Jack had a lot on his mind, he didn't exactly need an anxious king giving him jaw.

"I wanna help 'im but 'e makes it so hawd. No brains." Huffed Jack.

"So uh, watcha gonna do?" inquired Race as he flipped a marble around in his hand

"I'm gonna go find Davy an see what ese got. Den we'll move from dere."

Once Jack had vanished down the stairs, Race turned back to the boys. Every eye in the room was on him, "a'ight boys, get back to ya own business. Nutten ta see ere."

"Ya gonna love me Jack.. Mr. Conlon as been arrested, wese got a couyt date, police escorts foah both spot an da lady, an wese got a solid lawyuh. An ol man Denton pitched in so wese got da best dat money can buy. No wars, no issues, it's gonna be an easy fix from ere!" exclaimed Davy the moment that Jack came into view, he had been dying to get over to the lodging house, but he hadn't been able to make it.

The two boys spit shook and embraced, "I knew you'd come drough! We owe ya one Davy-boy, we really do, Spot was jes about ready to charge in an 'andle the whole ting 'imself! An when I say 'andle, Ise mean Brooklyn style."

That night a relieved Jack went home to his boys with a smile on his face.

"Wese gots it all settled boyz!!! Spoty voises de ol man! An ese comin out on top! Ol man Denton's gots our backs on dis one! Da best lawyuh dat money can buy. All wese needs ta do now is get Spotty into da couyt."

What was initially a result of whoops and hollers quickly turned into groans of despair upon hearing Jacks last bit of information.

"Aw youse outta ya headline hawkin mind?!" Cried Blink, "Dere's no way on euiyth dat youse gonna get Spotty in ta a couyt!"

Jack just hopped onto his bunk smile unwavering. "If dere is one man on da planet who could get em dere, wese know em. He aint only logical, ese convincing. An if Spots gonna listen to nobody, dat nobody has a second name, Brick, ese ya man."

Mush woke up to the brush of a light breeze tickling his ear. With his bunk next to the window, he always knew when someone couldn't sleep, was having a bad day, or if they were simply sneaking out. He caught the glimpse of a bare ankle pulling out the window. It had a rope anklet with an M charm dangling from it. Michelle. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach waking up. Quietly he snuck out after the girl. Once seated next to her, he took a good look at her face, and although well hidden on account of his presence, he sensed fear.

"Wats da mattuh?" he inquired in a soft voice. He felt a slight tremor in her shoulder. "Ise, Ise, it ain't nutten. Jes couldn't sleep." Mush couldn't help but chuckle a little. And although frustrated with his seemingly heartless response she couldn't help but feel a blush rise, she always drank up his laugh like a warm drink on a bitter day. "What was dat for?"

"Nuttin, it jes seems dat most people come up ere ta think, ta escape, but youse, youse jes come up here for nutten, dats what it always is, nutten. Hey, you know ya lyin, and I know ya lyin, and now you know dat I know ya lyin, so why can't wese jes tell da truth? Ise gonna start. Da primary reason Ise up ere is cause Ise concoiyned foah you. De uttuh reason Ise up ere is cause I'm noiyvous foah Stealth. He ain't doin so grand, ya know? An I ain't shoah what we'd do without 'im, what Jack and Chips would do wit out 'im. Especially Cjips. I mean, Stealth don't see it, but she would give anyting foah 'em. Even her life. She'd nevuh forgive herself if he died."

Michelle was shocked. At not only the newsies' openness, but his perception, his awareness. She would never have expected this headline hawkin, street smart, and seemingly self centered boy to pay attention. Pay attention to a pretty girl, sure, but to notice small, hidden details like Chips sheer dependence on Stealth, not to mention noticing Stealths slipping health: This astounded her. Yet on top of everything else, no one, absolutely no one had ever seen through her facade, her mask of contentment, except for her father. But Mush, he noticed.

"It's cho tuiyn Preachuh." reminded Mush.

"I guess Ise eduh gotta be a jeiyk o be honest. An eiduh way Ise look foolish, so Ise guess Ise gonna tell ya da truth. Da thought a Spot agrrein ta go ta couyt scares da Hell out a me. And dats sayin somthen cause Ise already saved. An it's not exactly 'im Ise scared foah."

Michelle could feel mush drape a comforting arm around her shoulders and she melted into his firm embrace. "Go on" He prompted.

""Yeah, well, I donno if it showed, but de encountuh wit Mr. Conlon really freked me out. An de idea uh facin 'im in couyt jes un-neoiyves me. I ain't da King O Brooklyn. Ise jes a goiyl."

By this point Michelle had lost the battle with her tears and she shook in Mush's arms as he cradled her, often whispering soothing words to her.

Once composed Michelle felt humiliated. Mush was the last personn she wanted to cry in front of. So she jumped up and as quickly and quietly as she had come, she returned to the lodging room and she jumped into her bunk, back facing the window.

This left Mush alone and bewildered. "Goiyls." he scoffed. "Dey all say Ise da ladies man, but Ise starten ta feel differently about dat."


	16. The wrong guy

"What am I doin today Brick? Nutin to drastic I hope." Spot was currently lounging in his private room. As King, he needed an escape, so he and Brick had created one. Years and years ago. The room had a simple feel to it, a window seat, a chair and a desk. Newspaper clippings adorned the walls. The picture from the strike had a wall all to itself.

"Well Spot, Jacky says 'ese gotcha covuhed. So wese headen ta Manhattan today. Oh, and Rapid is 'ere ta see ya." replied Brick from his perch on the desk. Although Spots mood visibly darkened, he called for Rapid, and the boy heard.

In walked, or rather, strutted, the leader of the Bronx, Rapid. He was even shorter than Spot, but he had a larger build, broader, more muscular. When the boy went to spit shake Spot halted him.

"Don't cha get too friendly Rapido. You and I both know why ya 'ere."

Rapid let loose a full out grin. Taking a seat on the window seal he began. "Den let's get right down ta business. Ise been hearen rumuhs bout choo Spotty. Dey say ya Kingdoms kinda tipsy topsy ri' now."

At this Spot let out a growl, ready to tear the bold kids head off. Thankfully for Rapid, Brick was present and he placed a warning hand on Spots shoulder.

"Please, continue." prompted Brick.

"Yeah, well, as I was sayin. From de outside, Spotty, youse ain't lookin so grand, and between you, me an Queens, wese all business men, an ta let a beautiful opportunity such as dis slip by would be, well, bad business." Spot approached Rapid, hiding his limp, and pulled him to his feet by his shirt collar.

"Wese jes fine ovuh 'ere Rapido, youse jes hearen rumuhs. I swear it." Rapid was quick witted though and shot right back.

"Lemme test dat. One majus rumuh says dat you yourself, Spotty Boy, es huiyten, especially in da knee." As he the words left his lips, Rapid forcefully slammed his foot onto Sots bad knee and Spot went down. But he knew he had to get up, he couldn't stay down. Spot pulled his cane loose, shoved into Rapids gut, pulled himself up and threw Rapid into the wall, holding him there by the cane cutting into his throat.

"Don't believe everything ya hea' Rapido. Now get outta me sight ya coward, ya rat, GET OUT!"

Rapid scrambled out of the room before you could say, "Carryin da Banner." and just as quickly Spot collapsed, gasping in pain, clinging his knee to his chest in anguish. Brick rushed to his friends aid. He pulled the boy to himself and then half lifted, half drug him towards the window seat. Once situated, Brick sprinted off to get some ice and a makeshift splint.

Michelle had avoided Mush like the plague. In her humiliation she had abandoned him. And regrettably she still had yet to gather the courage to confront him. Tomorrow was the big day and she was more nervous than ever, but she refused to admit it. Mush managed to catch her that morning. "Hey. I uh, I donno whad I said, but Ise didn't mean it." She had insisted that he'd done nothing wrong and to her consolment He showed signs of relief.

"Well uh, Preachuh, Ise jes wanted ta let choo know dat wedduh youse wants me dere o not. Ise'll be right behind ya tomorruh. Ise promise."

She had quickly thanked him and scurried away, leaving him once again confused. And for the hundredth time she told herself, _When dis is all said an done wit. Ise'll make up wid youse mush. Dat's when it'll be okay._

Brick walked in to check on his friend and found him lying on his back, leg propped up. Pain evident in his face. "Ise hate me life. In fact Ise hate ya life too Brick." grumbled Spot as Brick entered. _Well he can't get much woiyse off dan dis. Mi_se _well bring it up now. _

"Spot uh, Ise went and talked ta Jack on me own today. Ya fadduh 'as been caught. De couyt date es tomorruh." At this point Brick sped up significantly, "Denton has da best uh de best as far as lawyuhs go. All we need now is, well, youse. Wese even got police esco'ts."

Spots eyes blazed, "I ain't goin ta no couyt! Ya wanna know why? Cuase I don't go where me boys can't suppo't me. An I ain't gonna make em go anywhe'uh near dere! Dey don't desoiyve dat!"

Brick pushed Spot down so that he was on his back again and sat Indian style next to him. "Ise gonna be right dere wit choo. All da way. Now tell me youse need more den dat."

Spot looked his best friend in the eyes. He took a deep breath and replied. "I say, dat what choo say...es stupid.......but I'll do it anyway."

The next day, after distribution, newsies began to talk, and some began to get cleaned up, others began to fret, and still others talked some more.

A huge group of youngsters gathered in the center of the Brooklyn Bridge.

One half a clump of dirty, muscular, boys, stood, smoking cigars, glaring at everybody else. At the front, barely recognizable, was Spot. Hair combed, face scrubbed, and to add a nice touch he even wore a suit coat, borrowed from Denton.

On the other side, a group of boys cleaned up, ready to support their alliance and the girl they had all grown so fond of. In the front, all cleaned up Jack Kelly wearing his scabbers suit; beside him, possibly more indistinguishable, was Michelle. She had taken a visit to Meddas earlier. Michelle's hair hung in loose curls, her cheeks popped with a tint of blush. Most shocking of all was her dress. Powder blue, bordered with lace, the dress revolutionized her figure, she had in a few moments transformed into a woman.

"Hey! Hey! Spotty Boy!" Called out Racetrack, "youse clean up real nice!"

A boy from in the midst of the Brooklynites hollared back, "Oh yeah?! Da misses looks like she's gettin married! Where's da groom?"

Before anything could escalate, Spot ceased the banter. "A'ight ya idiots, ya walked me to da party, youse can go home now." And so they did.

The small parade continued into Manhattan down the streets until it reached the courthouse. A magnificent building of marble. Denton was waiting at the entrance for them. He walked briskly up to Spot and looked him straight in the eye. "It's going to be fine Spot, this isn't like last time. You're on the other side of the hall."

With that the group was ushered in. After everyone took their seats, the judge ordered that the defendant be ushered in. Upon his entrance Spot jumped up and hollered."Dat! Dat ain't me fadduh!"

The crowd irrupted into chatter and Michelle's head snapped up, eyes wide with fear. Up to this point she hadn't looked up, she had, in nervous habit, stared at the ground the entire way in. She practically jumped out of her skin when something touched her shoulder. She looked over to see a tan, weathered, ink-stained hand. Mush. He squeezed her shoulder in comfort. Leaning forward, Mush whispered into her ear, "Es okay Preachuh. Ise 'ere, an so aw de boys. Youse jes fine, breath, relax. Ise right 'ere."

These assuring words soothed her soul, almost as much as the torrent of scripture rapid firing in her brain.

"The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, A refuge in times of trouble.

And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; For You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You."

" The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."

" Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord."

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?"

That's when Jack stood up. "Don't let dat man go!" All eyes turned towards Jack and for a brief moment he froze. Right as he went to continue the judge inquired of him. "And who, young man, might you be?" with a little hesitance Jack replied, "I, Ise Jack Kelly, ya honuh. Ise a good pal uh Spot 'ere."

"And why shouldn't we free this man?" taking a deep breath and a step forward, Jack raised his hand and pointed accusingly at the defendant. "He is one uh mistuh Conlon's goons. De day I ran inta all uh dem, he was dere. Plotten and conniven. Dere's no way Ise can be mistaken, Dis man sticks out like a so'uh thumb wit dat scar on his neck!"

The judge had the mans neck checked and there was a scar. He took the moment to make an executive decision.

"We'll hold this man for further questioning, a search will be conducted and once Mr. Conlon is apprehended, this court shall resume. Until then Spot Conlon and Michelle Winters will remain under police supervision."


	17. A world of hurt

_The judge took the moment to make an executive decision._

"_We'll hold this man for further questioning, a search will be conducted and once Mr. Conlon is apprehended, this court shall resume. Until then Spot Conlon and Michelle Winters will remain under police supervision."_

At this proclamation the court once again erupted into chatter. But above all the noise one defiant voice could be heard, "NO WAY IN HELL! I AIN'T GONNA SIT AROUND ERE TWIDDLIN ME THUMBS WAITN FOAH YOUSE LAZY BUMS TA GET DIS SORTED!" The statement threw the judge for a loop. He took Spot aside and looked at the boy. "What's the meaning of this? I'm doing this for your safety, for your own good." Spot glared at the man, eyes piercing. "Me boys need protection, dats me job. Ise need ta sell papes to make a livin, and Ise hate da bolz. Wit everyting I am. I ain't ere today, seekin dere help, I was jes hopin me fadduh would have ta suffer by bein takin in. Not vice-versa, no way aw youse keepin me ere. Youse call me when youse get im, not a moment sooner." As Spot turned to leae the Judge latched onto his arm, "Sorry young man, but this isn't exactly up to you." As the judge sigaled the gairds to escort Spot to a holding area, Spots anger rose to a dangerous level. He was in escape mode when Brick reached him, "Spot wese can talk dis ou!" insisted Brick. "No way brick, Ise already tried dat!" But Brick played interference. "Mr. Judge Sir? Wese really need Spot back at da lodgin house. One a duh younger boys jes arrived, he's a very fragile case an he only takes ta Spot here. Da kid my kill his self wit out Spot." The judges face creased with concern. "Alright, but if we hear anything we won't hesitate to come get him."

Outside spot turned to Brick, "Improven da truth?" Brick just smiled.

Meanwhile Michelle was having a hard time herself. "Mush, Ise, Ise donno what ta do. Ise want da protection, but ise don't wanna leave da newsies, not even foah a short while. Ise nevuh felt safuh" Mush nodded is head in understanding. "Es up ta youse, but Ise poisunally wish youd stick wid us."

So both witnesses ventured back into the world. Regardless of the fact that mr. Conlon was still at large.

It was long after dark when a man stepped out of the shadows in Brooklyn. He crept into the boys lodging house and found a young blonde sleeping soundly in his bunk. The man covered the boys mouth with a cloth and slit his throat. Just as quickly the man was gone and the Brooklyn boys were soon to wake up to a wold of hurt.


	18. What now?

Spot woke up to a scream of bloody terror. He jumped up, ignorant of his knee and raced down the stairs. His face turned ghostly pale at the sight before him. One of his youngest newsies, and a faithful bird, Beak, was sprawled across his bunk covered in blood. His bunk partner Clout, also covered in blood was sitting on the floor in hysterics, rocking back and forth tears flowing from his bright green eyes.

"no, nononono. DAMN HIM!" Screamed Spot as he booked towards the door. On his way he turned his head and hollered to Brick, "You get dis end fixed and I'll do da rest!"

Brick shaking with shock and fear looked down at the boys from his spot on the stairs. "Wese, wese gotta." he gulped. He had no idea where to start. "Bear, youse get a sheet from de hall closet and we'll wrap Beak up and take em out foah uh propuh funeral. And Fang, youse can get uh mop ta stawt cleanen up da, da mess." He once again paused to take a deep breath. He walked over to Clout and pulled him close in a warm mbrace. "Es gonna be okay. Ya 'ear?" the co comander of Brooklyn escorted the shakin boy to the wash room and began to wipe blood from his body all the while whispering comforting words, to the boy and partly to himself.

Spot was sprinting in a blind fury towards Manhattan. Hot tears touched his cheeks, but he was to angry to notice. All he wanted to do was kill. Revenge was all he sought. Spot burst in to the lodging home in Manhattan and darted up the stairs. "KELLY! KELLY WESE GOTSTA TALK!" He reached the bunk room to be met with a group of frustrated, sleepy newsboys. "What's dis all about Conlon?" grumbled a barely conscious Racetrack. That's when Mush looked up, he saw a panicked teary eyed, angry Brooklyn King and his sense were immediately on alert. "Spot, what happened? What's going on? Are you okay?" while saying this Mushed rushed to Jacks bedside and began his attempt at waking the comatose boy up. "Jack, Jack somethins wrong wit Spot, youse gotsta get up!" insisted mush as he shook the older boy. Finally, and with much effort Jack woke up to see a distraught Mush. "What's da mattuh?" Mush simply pointed towards the doorway and Jacks eyes widened. "Spot!" He jumped down and pulled his friend down the stairs where they could talk in private. "What happened Spot?"

Spot collapsed into the chair behind Kloppmans desk. "Me fadduh must 'ave broken in ta our lodgin house last night. Beak is dead, slit throat. Clout is really freaken out and, and I donno what ta do. I NEED to find me fadduh. Can youse help?" Jack paled. "Uh, yeah spot, whatevuh youse need."

Back in Brooklyn the lodging house was overcome by an uncharacteristic silence. Everything had been cleaned up, and Beak had been buried, all they had left to do was wait for Spot. Brick was still holding a now clean Clout, rocking him back and forth. Finally one small newsie broke the silence, "what aw we gonna do now?" Brick looked at him, "Assumin Spot don't do nothen stupid, wese wait till he gets back an we do whad he says when he gets here."


	19. Important!

Don't get so excited! Gee you people, three in one day? Unlikely. =D

Well I just wanted to let everyone know some good news and some bad news. The good news is I'm really going to pick up the pace for my story. I'm going to have it ended by June. The reason for this is the bad news (not for me, for you) I'm leaving for India in June and I'll be there for two months. Bottom line no stories this summer.

So my plan is to wrap this story up and then either do a sequel or another idea I've been playing with next fall. So be thinking about this:

Sequel: Mush is dealing with the past few weeks and is trying to sort it all out in his head. So is Spot, a new character might come into play, a Washington chick maybe? I donno really, can't say too much or I'll give away my ending. Heehee.

New Story: Spot meets his match, and she turns out to be his best friend. The two are the perfect pair. Both tough, but she's not too head strong that they clash, and she can always brighten up his day. What happens when a tragic accident threatens their relationship?

So decide wether you want something fresh or to continue the old, and who knows your mind might change in the last couple of chapters. I'm aiming to end with a smash bang.

Thank you avid readers from the US, Canada, the UK and Sweden. Yes I know. And I also find it interesting that I've received 93 hits in the last week, yet since the story began I've only received 23 reviews, 19 of which are from my single most devoted fan Keiri Bradon, who rocks my world by the way! I always love to post because I always know you'll have something to say. Thanks for that!

So REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!! Give me a reason to write more! Love you guys!!!

-Cocolynch


	20. It ends now

Jack led Spot to the place where he had first stumbled upon Mr. Conlon and his buddies. The two quietly crept along the alley and halted beneath a fire escape window. Voices could be heard.

"Your son found the boy, he's in Manhattan now." The next voice was cold and hard, "Good, very good. Send out the men, we finish this tonight."

Jack and Spot moved away and his behind some crates and just as they had suspected a large group of men exited the building and dispersed into the night.

"This ain't good Jacky Boy, this ain't good at all. Here's what wese gonna do. You needs ta get back ta yoah boys, deys gonna be in a woiyld uh huiyt if the men beat youse dere. Den send yoah fastest runnuh ta Brooklyn ta wa'n me boys." Jack looke d at his friend, "And you?" Spot nodded his head towards the building. "No no no no, youse ain't doin dat by yoaself. Youse go gets da bulz." Spot shook his head, cold eyes set. "Ise gonna end dis now." With that Jack took off towards Manhattan.

Jack bolted up the lodging house stairs, "Boys! Wese gotsa problem!" Immediately all attention was on the bold leader. "Mr. Conlon has jes sent out his goons, wese donno what hes up to, but it's gonna be big. Legs I need a favor." A tall thin boy popped up from his bunk. The boy got his name because he ran everywhere. "Whatevuh youse need Cowboy." Grinning at the boys eagerness Jack clapped him on the shoulder, "Youse run ta Brooklyn, tell em what Ise jes said." The boy was out of the room in an instant. "Ise want Preachuh somewhere safe Mush, take her ta Davy's."

Spot was waiting for the perfect moment and it had come. His father was now alone in the building. He silently maneuvered his way up the fire escape and into the open window. He slid out a knife and crept towards his father. "Stop right there boy." came the cruel voice. Spot froze in place seething with anger. "Youse can't beat me Ed, Ise ain't so little no moah," he snarled.

Before Spot new it a man had come out of the shadows and smashed a brick over his head. When he woke up he was tied to a chair and in front of him stood a tall lean man with sandy brown hair and icy eyes. Eyes far more terrifying than his own. And of course, then came the smirk, this smirk was full of venom and malice. "You thought you could beat me? You thought you had this all figured out? Well you thought wrong!" Mr. Conlon struck Spot, mercilessly flinging the boys head to the side. "Waddya want from me?" snarled Spot, blood trailing from his lips. "I want," began Mr. Conlon as he leaned into his face was directly in front of his sons, "you dead. But it's more than that! Now if I had caught you all those years ago, I would have killed you instantly, but now. Now after you evaded me all this time, I'm a little angry. I couldn't live my life. I couldn't rest in peace. Not until you were out of the picture. Ans oh, I just want to savor this." As he spoke the last few words he pulled out a knife and slid it down Spots chest reaping a fresh river of blood as it went. But Spot wouldn't give his father the satisfaction. There was no way he was going to cry out, or even flinch. He just stared at his father, eyes hard, mouth taut.

Mush was leading Michelle by the hand as they hustled through the busy streets. They wove in and out of pedestrians, hopped crates and dodged food stands. "Es gonna be okay Preachuh. Davy's place is da safest lace foah youse." As he spoke he ran into a large and rather angry man. But as the man saw who exactly he had run into, he smiled, eyes dancing at his good fortune. "Hey John! Ise found a lil mouse!" instantly another large man was by his side. Mush pulled Michelle behind him and began to back up when out of nowhere another man crept up behind them. Michelle began to tremble. She was terrified, and so was Mush, but that didn't stop his better judgment. He turned to the man in the back and punched him square in the jaw ordering Michelle to escape. Before he knew it he had been hit from behind. Since they were in a busy street he had hoped to find at least one compassionate person, "HELP! I'm being robbed, I'm being robbed!" he screamed. A man in passing turned and joined the struggle, he called a friend over and soon the two thugs were out numbered, wait two? Mush looked around for the third thug, but he was no where in sight. "Mush, are you alright?" Mush came out of his daze and looked up to see Denton and he broke int o a grin, "Youse really saved me! But one uh dem is missen, and, o no, Preachuh!" Denton grapped the panicked newsie by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, "What's going on?" Mush took a deep breath. "Preachuhs me, me friend. She witnessed an attempted muyduh and dose goons want her gone." As Denton was nodding his head in understanding a scream pierced their ears. "Preachuh!" cried Mush as he bolted in the direction it came from.

**Oh the suspense! And I know EXACTLY where I'm going with it! Oh and here's the link to the intro to that story idea I had. **

.net/s/5673411/1/Inheritance


	21. note

Sorry so when you put the link it cuts of the f a n f i c t i o n part, so type it like you were going to the sight and then put the rest of the link. Does that make sense?


	22. It doesn't look too good

Legs reached Brooklyn and headed immediately for the boys lodging house when a broad shouldered newsie stopped him.

"What'dya doin 'ere shrimp?" Undeterred Legs looked the boy fool in the eyes.

"Ise gots a message for Brick, it's from Jack." he paused for emphasis, "and Spot."

The boy hesitated a moment before allowing Legs to pass.

He arrived at the lodging house and stepped boldly through the doors.

"I need ta see Brick!" he hollered.

A small boy walked up to Legs and gestured for him to follow. They walked up a stair case and turned. Brick was sitting on a desk in the corner. When they walked in his head snapped up. "Ink, youse can leave us."

Legs walked right up to te second in command.

"Spot found his fadduh. He and Jack ovuh hoiyd ;im an 'is goons takin. Deys planin sometin big. Spot went in to take care uh his fadduh, and Manhattan is jes preparin foah da woiyst," he informed Brick.

Brick looked concerned, but quickly composed himself.

"Youse tell Spot Ise comin ta help im, Ise puttin Tide in cha'ge. Brooklyn'll be ready for anyting."

The message received, Legs headed back to Manhattan.

Mush was freaking out. He was sure he had heard Michelle scream. He was sure that the third thug had caused it, and he was sure that if he ever got his hands on that man he would wish he had never been born. He rounded the corner with Denton on his heels to find his fears confirmed. Michelle was lying in a pool of her own blood, a knife protruding from her chest. She was still alive though, panting and cringing she had curled up into herself trying to ignore the agony she was experiencing.

Mush rushed to her side and grasped her hand.

"I'll get the doc!" shouted Denton as he rushed from the scene.

Mush brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "Youse gonna be okay Preachuh, youse gonna be jes fine."

Michelle brought her eyes up to meet his, losing herself in his woodland brown eyes. "I ain't gonna make it Mush. Ise goin home." Mush however was not ready to accept this. "No, no youse ain't leaven me, we was supposed ta stawt datin and den wed get married and 'ave thoiyteen kids an die old togethuh."

Denton had given the Doc instructions and rushed to the newsies lodging house. "Mr. Kloppman, I need to speak with Jack Kelly." The old man looked at the man before him and was about to turn him away when Jack came down the stairs. "Denton! What brings you here?"

Denton told Jack the story in a condensed version and Jack insisted they leave immediately. When he arrived at the alley he found

Mush cradling Michelle's head as the doctor wrapped the wound. He turned to face Denton and Jack, speaking in a hushed voice, "It doesn't look good. I'll take her in, but I just don't see her surviving something like this." Jack nodded hi head and went to kneel next to his newest newsie.

"Ise real sawy Preachuh, Ise thought you'd be safuh movin out, guess I was wrong."

Michelle smiled at the worried leader. "It's okay. It's okay."

**AN:** **It is extremely difficult to write newsies fanfic while listening to the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack, "BE OUR GUEST!" haha, definitely not the Newsie motto.**


	23. Brooklyn Protects

Spot had long since lost consciousness when a man ran into the building.

"Mr. Conlon, Sir! The girl should be dead within the hour." Mr. Conlon stood from his arm chair and turned to face the man. Face hard, "Should? Within the hour?"

The man hesitated for a moment clearly fearful of his boss.

"Well sir, the boy, he got help, and there was only three of us." Mr. Conlon stilled appeared miffed, if not more so at the pathetic excuse, "Help? Three full grown men couldn't handle a few scrawny children?!"

The man knew he was losing his chance so he interrupted, "NO SIR! THEY HAD HELP FROM ADULTS!"

Satisfied, yet still unhappy, Mr. Conlon dismissed the man, but right before the man left he poked his head back in, "Sir, um, do you want me to round up the boys since you've got the kid?"

Mr. Conlon just smirked, an evil malicious smirk. "Naw, I want my boy to see his kingdom crumble."

Brick was running toward Manhattan and had just reached the docks when he tripped over something. He skidded on the dock a ways before coming to a halt. Looking up his stomach flipped. A group of men stood above him sneering down. Brick scurried to his feet and gulped, taking a step back. His knees and palms were bleeding from his tumble.

"Heya fellas. Uh, real so'y bout dat."

They didn't back off though, they knew this was a Brooklyn newsie. "Ise figured all newsies were like Conlon's boy, guess I was wrong. Cause your pathetic." The man pulled Brick closer, by his shirt collar. "Where's Conlon?" he spat.

Brick could feel himself begin to tremble, but he wouldn't allow himself to submit.

"So do youse get paid foah dis or aw youse jes in debt?" The man growled and threw Brick to the ground so he could kick him in the face. A wave of nausea hit Brick and for a moment he blanked. But when a Brooklyn newsie reached the bridge he freaked, "BRICK!" he called. That's when Brick snapped back to reality. He saw a group of boys race towards the dark when all of the sudden the men pulled out pistols**( yes they were around in this time period I checked!) **"Boys stop!" Brick called, yelling made him dizzy though and he swayed in his attempt to reach his feet. He finally straightened out and looked at the men, "Ise ain't gonna tell youse nuttin, and neiduh aw dese boys. Dey don't know whe'e Spot is, an Ise'll die befoah Ise tell you nuttin." The man stepped forward threateningly and the boys jerked uncomfortably, but remained in place, aware of the guns trained on them. Brick stepped to the edge of the dock and suddenly leapt backwards of the pier arching his back so that he went into the water headfirst. One trigger happy man managed to graze Bricks side with a bullet, but he escaped. He came up for air underneath the bridge and began to make his way to the other side. It was going to take him a lot longer to reach Spot than he had intended. His side was killing him and his swimming was laborious.

"Ise comin foah youse Spot," he whispered to himself.

The boys back on the dock knew what Brick had done and were relieved, but they were still in a sticky situation and very unaware of what was happening. One of the older boys was being interrogated, but he, like the rest, had no clue where Spot was.

"Hawnest sir! Ise don't gots a clue whe'e 'e is!" Impatient the man finally threw the newsie the ground and shot him in the leg. The boy screamed in pain, but still didn't admit anything. Restless, the men left and the boys gathered up their wounded comrade heading back to the lodging house. This was real and they were going to tell the rest of their fellow Brooklynites about the danger Spot and Brick were in. Brooklyn didn't submit, it didn't fall and it always protected its own.


	24. SOON!

I know. I know. You are at the verge of murdering my soul. I get it. I've cursed the souls of many an author.

Here's the deal. I have bad news and good news first? Okay.

BAD NEWS:

You won't be getting an update today, or tomorrow for that matter.

GOOD NEWS:

You will be getting an update VERY soon. As in, not this week and not next week, but the week after. AKA Spring Break.

It breaks my heart every time I pass the computer. I have a violent internal battle over wether to do what I need to do (homework and preparing for my trip ti India) and what I want to do (write for you). So patience is a virtue and we all have to learn it sometime. Just know. If you haven't given up on me, I haven't given up on you.

In fact, I'll give you one sentence to ease (not really) your hearts and minds.

* * *

AS the boys moved to lift Michelle off of the gorund she halted them with ehr words, "wait, wait. Befoah wese go. Ise gotsta tell youse somethin Mush."

He smiled reassuringly, "Es okay, tell me when we get dere. You're da most important righ' now."

They once again began to lift her, but she squirmed this time, "no nO NO! Dis is more important den anyting! If Ise don' make it-" she was cut off by a concerned Mush, "Hey don't be tawkin like dat!" But she insisted. Michelle reached out a pail hand and silenced his protests. "If Ise don't make it, foah whatevuh reason. Ise needsta know youse'll be okay. Dere's somethin I haven't told ya. Somethin real important."


	25. Dethroned

**I know I know everybody hates me, but be happy this isn't the last chapter; I decided to drag it out a bit. And I can't express how sorry I am, I just couldn't do it, honestly, there was just so much going on, but here, because I love you is 900 words of heartfelt apology in pure newsies fanfiction. **

_Michelle reached out a pale hand and silenced his protests. "If Ise don't make it, foah whatevuh reason. Ise needsta know youse'll be okay. Dere's somethin I haven't told ya. Somethin real important."_

Mush finally relented and gave the girl beneath him his full attention. Michelle took a deep breath and began, "Mush, I believe in life after death." He frowned, he didn't like where this was going. "We ain't all like Mr. Conlon and his men, but we all do bad tings. Because uh dat, we've failed. Dere ain't no hope for us. You get what I'm sayin?" Michelle's breath was becoming more laborious, but she plunged on at the sight of his nod. "But what wese don't realize is dat dere is hope, it's dat hope Ise always tawkin about. It comes in Christ and if youse trust him ta take on da buiyden of yoah wrong acts, den youse can be saved. Ise so desperately want ta see ya in heaven. I'm going home, but I pray dat use'll be home with me one day."

Mush kept averting his eyes. He'd never been a religious person and this had caught him off guard, even though she was "Preacher". But it finally made sense. The frustrations and desperations were a lack of something, something he knew that Michelle had, but he could never pin point it, but he knew know.

"Mush, promise me sumtin," pleaded Michelle. "Anyting Preachuh," was the boys reply.

"Go ta chuiych, jes once, tawk to da preachu dere. Tawk to a real life preachuh."

A tear escaped Mush's eyes as he was hit with the power of what she was saying. Her dying wish was for him to understand her peace. He couldn't understand it, but in that moment, Michelle was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. More beautiful than that night on the roof all that time ago, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers, the coldness of her mouth shocked him, but he refused to pull away. She closed her eyes in what began as bliss, but Michelle never opened her eyes again. There on that chilly fall night Mush sat in stunned silence in the streets of Manhattan, Jack his faithful leader held him and comforted him as the doctor and Denton discussed what to do with her body and how to best handle the situation.

Brick had finally reached Manhattan. Freezing cold, dripping wet, trembling from the bitter bite of the wind as well as the sharp ache piercing his side, he plowed on. The scrawny brunette limped through the streets and as he finally crossed the threshold of the newsies bunkhouse he was distraught to reach another disheartening seen, and he knew exactly what had happened.

Mush sat staring in a forlorn manner; old tears dried on his face, blood stained his hands, shirt and cheek. Jack paced uneasily and the crew was in an uptight manner, like a slingshot pulled taut awaiting release and he knew that he would be the one to release marbles.

"Boys," he rasped out, "Ise got a plan, and if youse would be willin to take part den dis could be over mighty quick.

"Jacky boy, Ise need yoah best boiyd." At that there was an awkward silence, "My boiyd is down Brick. Hoiyt protectin Spot." Brick grimaced at the sacrifice this group had made for his friend; it was assuring, but harsh all the same.

The next thing that happened surprised the whole group. Little Chips spoke up. "Ise can do it. Whatevuh it is, Ise can do it." The young girl wanted to prove herself, to the group and to her beloved Stealth. He had suffered so much for this already and she didn't want it to be in vain.

Before long the plan was being rolled out and sharpened as the group collaborated.

Midnight had come and gone when the ragged group took action. Chips had headed out with Brick and Jack to reach Spot, her job was to keep tabs on what was happening, if anything went south she would sprint for back up. The rest of the group prepared for battle and headed for the rendezvous point where they would meet up with the Brooklyn army.

Brick and Jack crept around the corner, down the hallway and eventually reached the main room. Inside they found Papa Conlon vacant, but what was left of their fearless leader was almost overwhelming. The boy, the leader, the king had clearly been dethroned. He was placed in a solid wooden chair, his body hung limp, his bonds alone holding him up. Cuts, bruises, abrasions and at least one obvious broken bone scattered across his fragile frame. His breath was strenuous and Brick nearly lost it right then and there. This wasn't just his leader, this was his best friend, and this was his brother. He and Jack jumped hastily into removing the bonds and transporting him out of the room. They finally reached outside and Jack told Chips to return to the group, he and Brick were going to rush their fallen comrade to a doctor. They had, after all, each suffered a loss that night and one more would be unbearable. But as they stood to leave, Papa Conlon arrived.

"What have we here?" Asked the wintry snake of a man. "A renegade? How touching." Jack stepped forward placing himself in between this man and his prey, meanwhile insisting that Brick just scoop Spot up and run which he promptly did.


	26. Fatal Blow

Brooklyn wasn't sure how to react to their broken leader being carried into their presence. Younger boys were free to shed tears at the sight of their lifetime hero in this state, older boys grabbed their makeshift weapons, angry and eager for revenge, and some allowed nothing to show through, whether they were in shock or they were contemplating the situation was unclear.

Spot presently came to consciousness and found that he was being laid down onto a cot of some sort. It took much effort to pry open his eyes, but when he did he was relieved. He was amongst his boys, which left his father somewhere else. As Spot slowly lifted himself up he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, without looking up he growled and said, "Don't try ta stop me Brick, don't do it."

Brick shoved him back nonetheless. "Ise gonna stop you! Youse wanna know why? Cuz, jes today I was shot at, beaten and run ragged cuz uh you! Now until youse can protect youhself Ise gotsta do it, and between you and me, Ise ain't to grand at dat. So get get bettuh and wese can tawk."

Spot growled again, flung himself up with a grimace and decked his friend, his pride wouldn't be shut down and he knew that this was a fight he had to take care of now, not later when more poor souls like beak would be murdered on his account. "Where is he? Back at dat house? Ise gonna kill em!" Spot was limping in a blind rage towards the place where he had been captured. That's when reality hit him for a moment, around him he saw the faces of the manhattan boys, but no Jack. "Where, where's jacky boy?" Spot asked this in hesitance, knowing and fearing and hating the answer.

"Ese wit yoah faddu," rushed Brick, "But don't do anyting –" Spot was already gone. Brick turned to the crowd. "Dis is what wese gonna do! We move now!" Then the mass of weary and raging boys took off after the King.

Jack was getting in some solid blows at first, but then two other goons stepped in, why he thought this would be fair he had no clue, but he was going to hold his ground, just like at the strike, just like when his mom died, just like every other time the strenuous turns of his life called for it.

The problem was his stamina wasn't going to last forever, and he knew it too. As the last of his adrenaline rush began to fade Jack took a blow to the temple that sent him reeling, tripping, falling, fading, but he regained hi s composure in time to roll to the left avoiding the shank of a knife, "_when did this become a knife fight?" _The desperation was about to overcome him when he heard a shout across the street, he and his opponents turned to see spot hobbling full force with an army off extremely unpleasant looking newsies behind him. Relief overflowed through Jack and he recoiled into the crowd, finding himself next to Racetrack who looked him over and quipped, "youse look like death Kelly, go get some rest and be wit Mush, he needs ya, wese'll take care uh dis." Jack humbled himself and responded to the command, grateful for a chance to get out.

Battle ensued. That's the only way to put it, no muskets and Calvary, but the closest you would get to a legit street war. Man to boy, swinging, chopping, striking, pelting, slicing, some took a beating, some dominated the playing field, but all took a toll. Kid Blink could be seen on a fire escape locked in a struggle with a man only a few inches taller than himself, by sprint of luck he managed to flip the guy over, thankful the hadn't suffered that fate. Brick fought with all he had, keeping close to Spot and his father who were involved in the dirtiest battle of all. Spot got tripped up, his father would kick dirt in his eyes, and Spot would catch his father in the chest and spin around to recover. Grasping his cane he would nail the man in the face, ruthless, and deadly, the victor would be surprising either way, they were like a raging sea, like waves erratic, gaining the upper hand only to lose it. Of course the winning move would be a cheating move. No one saw it coming, that fatal blow, but his followers were devastated. Brick glanced over to see Spots father drop a knife out of his sleeve and go in for the blow.


	27. Welcome Home THE END!

Brick knew not to interfere with the one-on-one combat, but he couldn't help it, he called on one of Brooklyn's finest in the fighting department, Bear, who joined him to overpower Papa Conlon. Brick knocked aside the knife and Bear knocked aside the man who didn't see the attack coming. Spot scrambled for the fallen weapon and when the two rose up Spot had the knife pressing in to his father's throat. Brick and Bear stepped back surveying the situation.

"Use yoah brains Spot," warned Brick, "if youse kill him den youse could go down foah murder. Then yoah kingdom crumbles and all uh dis is a waste."

Spot snarled and slowly dragged the knife across his fathers throat, a sliver of blood came forth. "Ise could kill youse, but where's da satisfaction? Ise wanna see youse rot in jail." With that Spot kneed the man in the gut and shoved him to the ground, knife still following every move. He ordered his boys to tie the man up and waited anxiously for the bolz to arrive.

The court date was set two weeks from that night to give the witnesses time to recoup and heal. A week later Spot and Brick had called a meeting between the leaders of the New York Newsies. Spot was at the head of a long table. Scattered on the table was papers, shot glasses and cigars. Looking around him he took in each of the people present, some uneasy without their strongmen, others confident in their allies. From queens there sat a broad shouldered blond, Bandit, he wasn't much of a strategically sound leader, but his sheer force seemed to do queens good at times. Moving on there was a tall scrawny girl named Pepper; she was a fiery redhead with wiry curls and she ran Harlem. She had been on the streets all her life; she knew every alley in New York City like the back of her hand. She was witty and not to bad with her fists- which earned the respect of her boys. From west side was an Italian boy named Pies, he ran a dictatorship enjoying every moment of it, he kept his boys crisp, always battle ready: West Side was a good ally to have. Jack of course came for Manhattan, and a tall beast of a girl named Willow ran Coney Island, she had sheer force about her, she sat in a relaxed manner, feet propped on the table, cigar in mouth, and a smirk to her eyes. Willow was a good friend of Bandit. At the far end sat Rapid, leader of the Bronx, smoldering with malice and contempt.

"Ise called you ere today ta enlighten youse on a situation dat's been spreaden through yoah buiyds no doubt," began Spot. "Yes. Dat's de answer. Yes Jacky boy and I had some trouble wit a couple goons. Yes. Wese spent time in da hospital, no, youse can't take down Brooklyn cuz you waited too long. Ise back, Jacks back, and tings will be back as dey once was, unless uh coiyse youse wanna tawk wit me about aligning territories. In dat case see me aftuh da meeting."

The meeting dragged on as the leaders discussed politics, bordering and birds, the rules, the boundaries, essentially the newsie code. Afterwards the group dispersed and Brick came in to find Spot still seated at the table.

"Youse okay dere Spot?" inquired Brick. Spot shifted a smidgen and looked up, "Jes tinkin Brick, tinkin about dis whole mess. Ise got a lot a people in trouble, and two killed."

Shaking his head in pity, Brick crossed the room sat across from Spot and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, "Listen," said Brick with sincerity in his eyes. "Dis ain't yoah fault. None of it. Its yoah fadduhs and he'll be behind bars foah life. Breathe easy Spot. Yoah free!" Spot wasn't convinced but he eased up a bit. A week later the trial occurred and went successfully and Mr. Conlon was sentenced to a life of incarceration alongside his goons.

1 Week after the trial

A sense of tranquility filled New York City. It was a beautiful autumn morning, a Sunday.

The cries of joyful newsies rang out as they hawked headlines. Boys swam freely at the docks in Brooklyn, safe with their fearless leader and King keeping eye from his crates above. Brick stood nearby always examining each boy to discern that they were well off. He turned around at the sound of his name to see Spot beckoning him over. Joining his friend on the wooden perch he looked over the group. The air was sweet; the breeze was fresh and the contentment he felt was unmatchable. "Ise wanted ta tell youse sometin Brick," said Spot, completely genuine. "Youse is my best friend and, thanks. Dats all."

Brick smiled knowingly and walked away, he knew how hard that was and he appreciated it thoroughly.

A tall dark haired man rummaged around his sanctuary preparing everything for the upcoming service. He looked up at the sound of the doors opening. Surprised he noticed the silhouette of a boy in the doorway, the sun at his back created a severe contrast, making it impossible to distinguish who the individual was. The real surprise was how early the stranger was, service wasn't for a good while. The preacher walked over and greeted the boy; he seemed shy, almost reluctant to be there. The curly haired boy took a seat in a pew as the Preacher slid in beside him ready to listen, talk or just be there. The boy explained that his name was Mush and that the girl he loved had been murdered and her dying wish for him was to come to a church, alas here he was. When the preacher inquired of his past regarding the church he skirted around the truth for a while before finally admitting that he had no desire to be a part of one, that he wasn't worthy of any kind of a religious deal. In the end Mush grew to like this preacher, his wisdom reminded Mush of Michelle, which saddened his heart, but he craved that. Mush explained that he had to get back to selling his papers and that he would come back soon. As he walked out the door he heard the preacher call after him, "Welcome home."

**Well I hoped you like it! Be sure to read my newish story and tell me if I should go ahead with it. Thank you for bearing with me, it took an all-nighter involving newsies and hot cool aid to get me psyched to finish this story and I finally did! **

**And WARNING! Don't get all excited if you see updates on this story, I might be editing the story to brush it over and take on the advice of my reviewers. **


End file.
